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... tion.
Wang Anfeng, already having sheathed his longsword and standing at the doorway dressed in a green shirt with a qin on his back, and Hong Feibai, whose shape was weather-beaten and carefree yet already beginning to grasp the essence of the swordsman’s heart, stood before him—a middle-aged swordsman.
The latter pursed his lips.
His body seemed to have an imperceptible curve which then straightened even more, much like the sword in his hand.
He looked at his mo ...
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